Ave Atque Vale
by athousandshadesofblack
Summary: Clary Fray is no longer the strong, brave shadowhunter everyone knows. During the final battle against Jonathan (set after COHF) something happens that changes Clary's life forever. Having no choice but to leave, Clary goes and tries to live a normal, mundane life. But her past comes back to haunt her, making her return to the people she left after 5 long years. (First fan fiction)
1. Hail and Farewell

For the first week after the final battle against Jonathan, I felt sick.

Not the "ugh I'm healing from my grievous injuries", kind of sick. No. It felt different. It felt as if my body was trying to tell me something was horribly wrong. Looking back now, I wish that I'd just listened. But being the incredibly tough and most importantly, stubborn, person I am, I just brushed it off as overexertion. Healing did take it all out of you.

But now I'm not sure. I'd used every healing rune in the Grey book. Iratze, painless, even slower blood loss. I'd even tried to invent my own rune, but nothing was working. Each night I'd go to bed, feeling as if I was being suffocated. This was not to mention the excruciating cramps and hot flushes. All I knew that something was up. I'd decided not to tell anyone, because they would turn this into some huge deal. And Jace, he would be worried out of his mind. He didn't need to be worrying, and neither did the others. Now was a time for celebration, to enjoy life. The shadowhunters and the downworlders, just defeated a great evil, one that none saw coming. Right now was not the time for worry and panic. It was only fair, that I would withhold this information until further notice (as in never). But today had been different. This morning, I'd coughed up blood. Even I, a girl with no medical experience whatsoever, knew that coughing up blood was a bad sign. A really bad sign.

So that's why I'm standing here, on the High Warlock of Brooklyn's front doorstep. He'd keep this secret if I asked him to. He still owed me. Putting a block in my brain for 13, almost 14 years was not something I could forgive easily. Even though it was my mom's idea, he was still the one who actually put it there, when he could have said no. Though for reasons I cannot fathom, I actually like AND trust him. I guess after living for eight hundred and something years, one knows how to keep a secret.

Taking a deep breath, I press the buzzer, a small part of me hoping that he won't answer. But inevitably, he does.

"Who dare to disturb the magnificent Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn?" booms Magnus. _Damn. Why can't something go my way? Just for once._ Though the title does make me smile. It so pretentious and so fitting for Magnus, even Jace would admit that it suits him. And that's saying something, considering the blatant dislike Jace has for the ever glittery warlock. Though I have the feeling it's mutual. Swallowing my fear, I speak," A short, red-headed shadowhunter, who you may or may not have stolen memories from."

"Oh Clary, it's lovely to hear from you. Come right on up."

Sighing, I thunder up the metal stairs, my footsteps echoing like bullets. I practically fly through the warlock's door. He is sitting on a citrus yellow couch, looking at me with an expression of bored humour. He gestures for me to sit down. I obey, taking seat on his left.

"So tell me, why do I have the_ pleasure_ of your company?"

"Magnus, I think there's something wrong with me," I say, ignoring the sarcasm in his tone. "I feel sick."

He laughs.

"Well duh, the battle was a week ago. "

I groan inwardly. "Not that kind of sick Magnus. I feel as if something is terribly wrong."

"Jeez, Clary. If your so worried, why don't you go see the Silent Brothers?"

"I coughed up blood this morning and –"

"You what!" exclaims Magnus, almost leaping out of his chair. "Why the hell haven't you told anyone?"

"Because Magnus, as I was saying, I coughed up blood today and I didn't want anyone to worry. I hate it when they make such a big deal over nothing."

"Of course they'd make a big deal over it. Coughing up blood is a very bad. You should go and-"

"Magnus, I came to you because I trust you. Why? I do not know. But all I'm asking right now is for you to shut up and help me."

"Okay," he says, leaning back on his chair. "Tell me what happened at the battle. What you remember."

"Well, I remember fighting against Jonathan. I stabbed him in the chest and I watched him die. As I stood there, I felt a lancing pain in my stomach. Then I pass out. I don't know how long I was unconscious, but when I wake, I see one of the last remaining demons looking down at me. After that it's all a blur. But I remember waking up in hospital, and having this indescribable wound across my stomach. It was like none of the others. It was a sickly black, the same colour as demon blood."

Magnus stares at me wide eyed. He stands and dashes to a large bookshelf in the corner of the room. His long fingers skim across the backs of books until he stops on one especially big, leather bound, book. I just watch him, as he frantically flicks through pages. Panic begins to rise in my chest. What in the world could have scared him so much? What could have made him act like this? Abruptly, he stops and his eyes flitter across the page. A strangled sound comes out of his throat.

"What?"

Magnus looks up and I can see tears in his eyes. "Clary, I think you might want to sit down."

"No, I what I want is for you to tell me what the hell is going on!"

"I don't know how to tell you this in any better way, so I'll just be blunt." He pauses and I roll my eyes. Why such theatrics? "Clary, I think you're dying.

* * *

I stare at him like a ridiculous goldfish. _He can't be serious. He's wrong. This can't be right. I'm perfectly healthy. There's nothing wrong with me._ But as I say these words to myself, deep down I know I'm lying. _What he was saying made sense. As hard as this was to believe, it was true._ Slowly, I look up at Magnus, tears clouding my vision. Of all the things I could say, I blurt out, "How?"

Magnus sinks to his knees so we're eye level. "When you passed out, the demon you saw must have given you some of its blood. The blood poisoned you and within the next week or so, you will be dead. There is no cure, I'm sorry."

It takes every piece of strength I have not to cry, not to be weak. "Why me Magnus? Why me?"

"It's a very painful death Clary. The blood feeds off you, until you're just a shell of a person. The demon knew this and it knew how important you were. It knew how much of an impact it would create to the Clave. Their shadowhunter prodigy; dying such an ugly death, especially after Jonathan's defeat."

I let out a small sob, which I instantly regret. "Are you sure there's no cure."

"There is something…"

"Magnus if there is any other option, tell me." A small dash of hope flutters through my chest. _Maybe it's not over; maybe I still have a chance._

"Let me finish. This isn't a cure Clary. It's a way to…postpone your death."

"Postpone?"

"Yes. Your see, I knew a young man, a long time ago, who was in the same situation. James was his name. He took a drug called yin fen, which stopped the demon poison. But the problem was that once you take yin fen, you can never stop. The withdrawal will kill you, but eventually the drug will too. It's addictive. Since you're a shadowhunter, you'll last for about 6 to 7 years, if you're lucky 8. But that's only if you take the drug as little as possible. That's what James did anyway. But he still died young, just like you will. As you can see, there's no happy way out."

"I'll do it," I say, trying to sound as confident as possible.

"Clary, do not take this decision so lightly. There are side effects. Your hair and eyes will become silver; the same colour as the drug. Not to mention the extreme weight loss, coughing fits and fatigue. If you do this Clary, you'll never be the same."

His words floated around in my head. _Never the same. Never the same. Hell, of course I'd be different. Does that matter? What will the others think? Oh my god, they'll have to watch my descent to death._ _I can't let them see me like that, but I can't die either. Shit,_ I think. _I know what I have to do._

Taking a deep breath, I stare into Magnus' gold-green eyes. "Magnus, I'm going to leave." I curse the tears that are making my vision cloudy. I hate crying.

"Well of course you're going to have to leave Clary, you are in my house." He says rather matter-o-factly."But what's your decision about the drug?"

I sigh. "Magnus, I mean I'm going to have to leave. Forever. I won't be coming back."

"What! Clary, why the hell would you even think that'd be a good idea!"

"Tell me, what it like is to watch someone you love die. Tell me how it feels, to watch them fade away; while there's nothing you can do about it." I know as I say this, I might be striking a nerve, but this would be the only way.

His eyes are full of tears. "You have no idea."

"Exactly Magnus, I can't put mom, Jace, Luke, Simon, any of them, through that. It would kill them. Can't you see Magnus, at least if I go, then none of them will have to live for the rest of their life thinking I'm dead. This way, they'll remember me as the girl who left them for a better life, rather than the girl who died while there was nothing they could do about it."

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I'm sure. All I'm asking of you is to help. Help me disappear; let me become a different person. I'll create a new life. A mundane life. Help me make it like I never existed, so there will be nothing they can remember me by. It will be better this way."

"Okay Clary, I owe you one anyway."

I let out a small laugh. "That you do."

"Just meet me outside the Pandemonium at 9 o'clock sharp. I'll take care of the rest." He hands me a small silver box. "Inside is the yin fen, all you need to do is consume a small pinch of the powder every second day. Before doing exercise, I suggest taking some as well because you won't be strong enough otherwise."

"Thank you Magnus," I say, clutching the box tightly.

"Just be there."

* * *

Later…

8:45pm

I take a deep breath and look down at the piece of paper in front of me. For the whole day, I spent it trying to think of something to write. A note, which they would believe. I'd run multiple different versions through my head, but finally I came up with the final. Picking up the pen shakily, I began to write:

_Dear everyone,_

_ I'm writing this note as a final goodbye. Though on the outside I must have seemed happy, but on the inside, it is an entirely different matter. I hate it here. My life has changed so dramatically in these last few months, in more ways than I can describe. It's just become too overwhelming. I feel as if I'm going mad. I miss my mundane life. One where friends aren't dying and one where creatures from stories don't exist. One where the world isn't in constant danger. I hate being the prodigal shadowhunter, who's meant to save the world. I only stayed because I felt like I had to. But now that this crap is all over, I think it's time for me to leave. All of you just bring up too painful memories. Memories that have become too hard to handle. Don't try to find me, because I'll never be coming back. _

_Goodbye for the last time, _

_Clarissa Fray._

I push down all the sadness and pain I feel, forcing myself not to cry. I grab my backpack, which contains a few small mementoes; a group photo of the 'gang', my sketchbook, my stele as well as the box of yin fen. I reach behind my neck and unclasp the necklace Jace gave me. The one with the Morgenstern ring. I don't want to leave it, but it'll be the only way to convince the group. Tearfully I look around the Institute for the last time. Then I turn and walk out the door, not looking back.

* * *

At the Pandemonium…

I step out of the cab and give the driver an extra big tip. What can I say, I'm feeling super generous at the moment. I shiver at the cool wind and pull my hoddie up, covering my flaming locks. It's not like I want to be recognized. Walking at a fast pace, I push through the crowd, trying to find the spot where Magnus asked to meet me. Even from outside, I can hear the loud pulsing music. It makes me think back to how this all begun, how I accidently fell face first into the world of demon hunting, magic and monsters. I guess it seems kinda fitting, that this would be where I would leave; where it all began.

Looking around, I spot Magnus in an alley, his cat eyes glowing in the darkness. I quicken my steps to reach him. "Good to see you're on time Clary," says Magnus.

"You told me not to be late, so I came on time," I reply.

"Are you still sure about this, you can change your mind."

"I'm sure. Just tell me where I'm going and I'll be gone."

He pulls out a large manila envelope and hands it to me. I take it and open it. Inside there is a passport, a foreign language dictionary, keys and a large wad of bills in a currency I've never seen.

"You'll be going to the Netherlands."

"The Netherlands?" This was not what I was expecting.

"Yes, Amsterdam to be correct. Your name will be Laurel Hammond. You're an orphan who lost her parents recently in a car crash. Both your parents are Dutch, but you grew up in America. You have no brothers or sisters. You didn't want to stay in America any longer because it was too sad to stay, so you moved to pursue your dream as an artist. Go it?"

I nod, then look down at the envelope, trying to process what Magnus said. _Laurel Hammond. Dead parents. Dutch. Only child. Hates America. Artist._ This was going to be harder than I originally thought.

"Well Bane, let's get this over with."

He gives me a weak smile and begins to summon the portal. I guess I could have done it, but I could have stuffed up and ended in who knows where. That would not have been good. When he finishes, I jump into his arms, hugging him tightly. He was going to be the last person from my old life that I'd ever see. We let the embrace drop and begin to walk towards the portal. I feel my heart beating against my ribs. Each step closer to the portal; I feel as if some part of me is being ripped away. My eyes begin to water. Just before I step through the portal and into my new life, I turn. "Don't tell Jace this, but I'll always love him." Tears are now dripping down my face. Then I step through the portal, leaving this old life forever.


	2. Old Memories, New Life

**Thank you all so much for the comments and followings of my story. Sorry but this chapter might be a bit shorter than the last. Anyway, enjoy!**

**athousandshadesofblack**

Amsterdam, 2012

Beep!

Beep!

Beep!

I hate mornings. A long time ago, I used to love them. But back then, I guess I had something to look forward to, something to enjoy. But now life is a bleak nothingness. Every day was the same. Get up, take the drug, feel sick, eat, go to work, come home, eat some more, sleep. Honestly, nothing exciting happens. Sometimes I wish that I could go back to my old, fun life, but then I scold myself for such ridiculous thoughts. So, like every other day; I roll out of bed and land on the ground with a loud BANG! I change sleepily into my training gear; a loose tank, cotton shorts and sneakers. Though Magnus advised for me not to exercise often, I can't help it. Old habits die hard, I guess.

I grab my box full of yin fen, taking a pinch. For a moment, m vision goes hazy and I feel the high of the drug. I hate the feeling of the high. I hate feeling as if I'm losing control. It takes a couple minutes for everything to come back into perspective. Then I pad upstairs into what I like to the call my 'recreation room'. It's a small room above the loft, in which I live and the perfect place for training. The room is made up almost entirely glass windows, and gives me an incredible view of Amsterdam. I have to give credit to Magnus for choosing such a nice apartment. Hell, he could have picked any crappy apartment. But no, he picked a crappy apartment with a view. In here, it's the one place where I can truly feel at ease. Trust me, when your life is as shitty as mine, it's good to have a happy place.

* * *

I walk over to the punching bag in the center of the room. I pummel my fists into the bag, letting out all my anger and frustration. I punch it because I had to leave. I punch it because the people I love probably hate me now. And I punch it because of this freaking disease that took everything from me. All the good. All the happiness. Eventually it will even take my life. From what I can tell, that's not far now. Maybe another year or so at best. God, it's times like these when I realise how much my life truly does suck.

* * *

I continue my rhythmic punching against the bag until sunrise. Unlike those damn rich people, whose houses I can spot from up here, I have to work. Hot and sweaty, I thump downstairs and into my bathroom. I blast the water on, making almost scalding hot, and step under the spray. After spending longer than I should have in the shower, I step out, getting ready to prepare for another long day. I catch a glance at myself in the mirror and can't help but sigh at the person staring back. I see a young woman with long silver curls and hard silver eyes. There is a faint dusting of freckles over her entire body, but they are almost invisible to see. The woman has pale skin, which is nearly translucent. This woman's body is shocking . She is thin. Not pretty thin, but anorexic thin. She has gaunt cheeks and hollow ribs, empty gaps where fat should have been. But the most disturbing part is her sunken eyes. Looking into them, you can see a lifetime's worth of pain, hopelessness and loss. I guess it's true; the eyes are the windows to your soul.

I stare into the mirror for a long time, trying to see that stubborn, red-headed warrior who united Shadowhunters and Downworlds. But now I only see a lost girl, who gave up fighting a long time ago. I doubt any of them, even Jace, would recognise me now. Hell, even I don't recognise myself anymore.

Grumpily, I make my way to me bedroom and change into what I like to call my 'street clothes'. In truth, I just pull on some green velvet pants, a vinatage corset top, a battered army jacket and some truly badass boots. To finish the outfit off, I tie my hair into a low ponytail and slip on some fingerless leather gloves. I guess the most annoying thing about being a shadowhunter-in-hiding, is covering all the permanent runes. So in some ways, I'm glad I never finished training. Sometimes I wonder how my mom managed to hide all those years without anyone finding her. How did she stay sane? But at least she had me and Luke. I have no one. Ha, I'm a lone wolf. But being alone isn't all it's cracked up to be.

As I shift through my wardrobe, trying to find a pair of sunglasses, my fingers run over something suspiciously crinkly. Digging past the masses of clothes, I find a photo. A photo I hadn't looked at in years. It was taken the day before the battle against Jonathan. We had all thought it would be a good idea to take a photo, in case anything happened.

* * *

Smiling back at me, are the people that I'd do anything for.

On the end is Simon, looking nervous next to Izzy, who's reaching up to kiss his cheek. Next to her is Alec, his arm tight around Magnus' shoulder. Magnus is smiling crazily, like the Cheshire car, his usual glittery self. Mom and Luke are holding hands, sitting in front of the group. On the other side of Magnus is me, looking like a complete midget against Magnus' 6ft 3 inches. And then there's Jace, staring down at me with utter love on his face. A pang of grief shoots through me. No wonder I kept this thing buried.

* * *

I take a quick glance at the time and realise that I'm going to be late for work. Shit. Quickly, I find the round shades I was looking for, grab my bag and dash out the door; the memory from the photo still swirling through my mind.

* * *

By the time I get home, I'm so tired I can barely think straight. Today I had to teach stupid little 7 year olds, who couldn't hold a paintbrush if their life depended on them. I spent the whole day either being asked why I sound 'funny' or why I have hair like an old lady. Jeez, these kids can be so aggravating sometimes. And my freaking boss knows that I hate teaching the little kids, but still she gives them to me. I don't even know why she hates me, but to be honest, I couldn't care less. Nothing really bothers me anymore.

I waltz up to my fridge, pull out a bottle of wine and pull the cork off, not caring about the alcohol spilling over the sides. Taking a larges swig, I flop onto the couch, hoping to drown out my loneliness. This is a ritual I follow on a daily basis. I'm dying anyway, nothing can get worse. I take another large sip, letting the wine do it's magic. Hopefully by the time I finish, this will all be a haze in the morning. Shutting my eyes, I welcome the buzz and warm feeling the alcohol gives. I lie there for a few minutes, not bothering to move, when I hear a funny humming noise.

I open my eyes I a bright light. I let out a loud shriek, falling over the couch, the wine bottle breaking at impact. Groaning, I sit up, dusting some stray glass off my hands. Looking up, I study the strange light. Is it? Of course it can't be… Holy crap it is. A portal! Why the hell is a portal in my apartment? Does this mean I've been found? Some many thoughts like these go through my mind as I crawl my way to the portal.

Sitting at the very front of the portal is a small piece of paper, elegant script written all over of. Suspiciously, I reach forward and pick up the paper. I turn my gaze down, and begin to read:

Dear the lovely Clarissa Fray,

I know that many years ago I promised that I would never contact you, but I guess I've broken that promise.

Whatever.

I've never been a reliable sort of person anyway. I don't know why, but today I found myself staring at a wall, the only thing I could think about was you. This was very strange for me, considering I hadn't seen you in so long. What is it? About 5 years? Well a lot has changed since then and I felt it important to send this to you. I know by now that you only have a year or two left.

Life's a bitch isn't it?

So I came up with this crazy idea in my head that you come over and visit, for old times sake. I know that you think I must be mad sending you this, but I just hope you can step though the portal and trust me. I know that you used to. We have a lot to talk about.

Looking forward to you acquaintance,

The Magnificent Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn.

I look up from the letter shaking. After all these years, Magnus Bane has the call to contact me! In some ways I'm so angry that I want to scream. But then deep down, I feel a happiness I haven't felt in years. This would have to be the stupidest idea Magnus has ever had! I think. Though for some reason, I feel like I have to step through the portal. I don't know why, but it seems like the right thing to do.

* * *

Sighing, I run into my bedroom, reaching under my pillow for my stele. I don't feel safe sleeping without it. I slip it into my jacket pocket. Then I race back into the living room/kitchen. I sling my backpack over my shoulder. Ignoring every part of my being screaming for me not to, I shut my eyes and step through the portal.


End file.
